Days of Our Lives
by Pon Pon Pocky
Summary: The Reaper War was one of the most devastating events in recent history. Thirty years after the day it ended, those who had contributed most to the battle reunite to celebrate and remember those who gave their lives so that they could live.
1. Chapter 1

The Citadel was abuzz with the news and gossip. It wasn't often that not just one, not even two, but _many_ of the greatest names in recent history decided to make a stop on the space station that served as the center of the galaxy. Of course, it wasn't the _original_ Citadel…during the great Reaper War, the original had been destroyed. But they'd rebuilt it once all was said and done. And, of course, they'd made it better. No use in making a completely replicated Citadel when a new, shiny one could hold twice as many shops, hotels, and other such entertainment.

There were multiple reasons for the heroes' visit, but the main one was a celebration (or, more like, a memorial) being held for the thirtieth anniversary of the Reapers' defeat. There was one held every year, but the group that had made it happen rarely all attended at once. Already people had gathered to stare with awe at the first arrivals. Urdnot Wrex and Urdnot Grunt, Tali'Zorrah vas Normandy (also called vas Rannoch, but the other, older name had become a symbol of pride), Liara T'Soni. All were greeted with great respect and ceremony, escorted to wherever they had been slated to stay…most probably the grandest apartments the Citadel could afford to spare.

Of course, _they_ were the last to arrive.

They always made it a point to be fashionably late…after all, you couldn't bind the savior of the galaxy by things like time. A hush filled the docks as the two stepped out of an elite cruiser, their steps echoing through the silence. Retired Primarch Garrus Vakarian looked very much the way he had thirty years ago, with the addition of quite a few scars and an added air of superiority that came from his former position as the top Turian of the Hierarchy. It would take a very close look to tell that he'd even aged since that time long ago…Turians rarely seemed to show any physical signs of aging, at least to non-Turians. He turned his head and his mandibles flared a little in a small smile, as the rest of the crowd followed his gaze to the one person they'd all been waiting desperately to see.

She held herself just as proud and rigid as she had all those years ago. Before the Reaper War, before her death, before Saren, before anyone even knew her name. Now everyone knew who she was by sight now, but at least everyone had heard her name, if only in whispers. She looked stern, her red hair dulled from age and up in a severe bun on top of her head. Her scars stood out more against her skin, a bit more drawn tan others of her age, but still showing the lines that proclaimed that she wasn't young anymore. She was standing ramrod straight, stance complementing the very formal uniform of an Admiral attending a very important event (Specter or not, one didn't defeat the greatest of the galaxy's threats without gaining a few hefty promotions within the Alliance).

The only thing that may have seemed out of place, that indicated any sort of weakness, was the cane she used on her left. Her leg hadn't fared well in the aftermath of the attack, and though augmented and basically saved by cybernetics, it was never able to revive full function, and so she walked with just the slightest of limps. People knew, though, that if anything, it made her more dangerous. Anybody who underestimated the great Shepard tended to die a fast death. Plus, it was rumored that the cane was a weapon itself, which seemed to be well suited to the former Commander.

Shepard gave Garrus what looked like a playful smirk back and followed him off the cruiser, waving off a couple of C-Sec agents that had been sent as body guards. Garrus took up his place by her side and gave a quiet chuckle as they made their way past the flustered would-be guards, confused on whether to follow their captain's orders, or those of Shepard.

"Just like old times, eh Shepard?"

She turned to give him a look that was a mix between exasperation and amusement. She was concentrating on not looking into the crowds…if she did, they'd take it as an invitation to swarm, and not even a hoard of Husks held a candle to how scary _that_ was.

"Yes, Garrus, exactly like old times, when everyone loved us and totally believed us when we told them that some bad she was about to go down." she stated dryly, rolling her eyes.

Her companion barked a laugh and shook his head, mandibles twitching in his mirth.

It wasn't a very long walk to the awaiting skycar, the chauffer opening up the door to the back for them. Shepard whistled appreciatively as she slid in.

"They really are rolling out the fancy stuff tonight. This model isn't even on the market yet."

She obviously relaxed once the door was closed, the tinted windows hiding the crowd's stares…relaxed enough to give him a wide-eyed stare that Garrus knew well.

"Oh no, Shepard. No more skycars. Remember the last two you crashed? Both in the last month?"

Shepard huffed, moving her cane and crossing her arms.

"Those mountains came out of nowhere."

Garrus just shook his head and patted her thigh.

"Sure they did. Just like when that Thresher Maw suddenly appeared in front of the Mako, right?"

She smirked, capturing his hand with hers, keeping it where it was.

"Yep. Exactly like that."


	2. Chapter 2

Little displays of affection like this were frequent between them. Small, light touches, bright smiles and sideways glances that always held more significance than they looked to have on the surface. They weren't very common in public. Shepard and Garrus were nothing if not professional in front of others, only giving in to the occasional round of friendly banter.

Their relationship, though, was well known, particularly due to the accomplishments of the members of the Shepard-Vakarian brood.

The first Turian in the Alliance, the first Krogan Spectre, and eight other young, up-and-coming individuals of multiple races were lucky enough to be claimed as the children of Rita Shepard and Garrus Vakarian. Many thought that the only reason for their successes was because of their parentage. Those that said it outwardly were quickly proven wrong. All ten were skilled in their own rights, and they all had worked hard for their accomplishments.

But just because everyone knew that the two saviors were bonded as closely as two individuals could be, didn't mean that they wanted to make it completely visible to the rest of the world.

The skycar pulled up to the banquet hall, decorated in lights and holo-displays. There was already a crowd outside, as if this were some celebrity event that they just had to see. Only those invited to the official memorial were allowed in, along with a few members of the press (Shepard was particularly _enthused_about that part).

The older woman sighed as the car stopped, staring out at the tinted windows.

"This is irritating." she murmured, fidgeting slightly.

Garrus just shook his head, turning his hand to give hers a reassuring squeeze.

"It's just a few speeches and a couple of hours of politicians. Isn't that your favorite type of event?"

She couldn't help the wry smirk she gave him.

"It's a star-studded show, Garrus. It's all 'look at me, look at me'. It's not a proper memorial."

She turned away from him, but Garrus knew the look of pain on her face.

"They don't deserve something like this."

It was so quiet, he could barely hear it, but he had heard it clearly.

He knew about the burden of sorrow she carried for their fallen friends. For those who wouldn't be able to have what they had. He knew that she held the loss of every life on her shoulders, even now, and probably would for the rest of her short life. Still the nightmares woke her at night, screaming and gasping for air. The fact that she wasn't completely broken by all her experiences was a testament to how truly strong she was.

He took her cheek in his palm and turned him back towards her, gently pressing his forehead against hers. He felt some of the tension she had drain out at the familiar and comforting gesture.

"We still have that memorial after this, with everyone. A proper one. But you don't have to do this if you don't have to, Shepard."

His voice was low, soothing.

"You ARE the most heroic figure in the galaxy, after all. I doubt anybody would be able to say anything about you skipping out on a party just this once."

Ah, there was a smile.

She leaned her cheek into his hand, her eyes finally meeting his, the spark of life and mischief returned just as quickly as it had been gone.

"The press'd hunt us down before we got very far, and I honestly do not want to deal with fighting through them. I suppose I can stand being here for a while, as long as you've got my six."

He chuckled, finally pulling back and moving to hand Shepard her cane.

"I always do."

With that, they put on their game faces and stepped out onto the literal red carpet that led into the banquet hall, flanked on all sides by screaming and the flashing of cameras. It was going to be a loooong night.


End file.
